


Magnificently Improper

by B_does_the_write_thing



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 04:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_does_the_write_thing/pseuds/B_does_the_write_thing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Belle French has to negotiate a deal to save her family business, she is rather surprised by Mr. Gold's proposition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnificently Improper

**Author's Note:**

> It is sneaking, insidious, disarming, lovely...  
> The waltz, in fact, is magnificently improper,  
> the art of tone turned lubricious....  
> \- H.L. Menken

Mr. Gold’s Pawnshop was located at Main Street and 1st Avenue. It was a simple building, blink and miss it kind of place with it’s green panel walls and its odd half little shingled awning. 

Belle stood across the street in the winter chill, moving from one foot to another to keep warm. The two large windows that framed the maroon door were full of memorabilia and trinkets, shining invitingly in the dark of early evening. 

Even though the front door had a small ‘Open’ sign displayed in the window, Belle knew it wouldn’t be for much longer. Mr. Gold’s Pawnshop closed exactly at 5:30 on the dot every evening. In fact, Belle could make out the shadow of the proprietor as he began to make his way towards the front door. 

Belle had let this shadowy figure deter her every night for the past week, but tonight, instead of slinking back home, she found herself striding across the street. Her heels made sharp clicking noises against the pavement as her breath came out in little puffs of steam that were oddly colored by the blue street lamps that lined Main. 

Just as her hand descended on the doorknob, an elegant hand took hold of the sign to flip it closed. Before she could think better of it, Belle wrenched the door open, finding herself abruptly face to face with the shop owner. 

Belle of course had heard of Mr. Gold. Everyone who grew up in Storybrooke had. Widowed father, he had lost his only son only to be entangled in a tragic accident which had left him with a pronounced limp and a permanent scowl. He had used the insurance money from the accident to become a real estate mogul and now owned over three quarters of Storybrooke’s land and property. 

But the man before her was not exactly what she had been expecting. 

“We’re closed,” came the curt greeting, as Belle stood immobilized in the now open doorway. 

“But-“

“Come back Monday,” Mr. Gold instructed her, taking the doorknob in his hand as he glared at her from just over the threshold. Belle could feel the inviting warmth of the building’s heater wafting over her as she stood there, the wind at her back pushing her ever so slightly forward. He began to pull the door from her slack grip, “Shop opens at nine.”

“Wait,” Belle cried out, clutching the doorknob and wrenching it back open. Brown eyes flew from her face to the door before looking back at her in narrowed dislike. “It can’t wait till Monday.”

“Then you should have come in instead of standing across the street for thirty minutes,” he advised, voice lowering in challenge. 

Belle found herself gaping as he pulled the door from her slackened grip. She shook herself out of it just in time to wedge her foot in the doorway before he could close it all the way. This was obviously a mistake as the wooden door slammed into her booted toes. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Belle cried, crumpling forward against the half closed door.

“What in the world?” Mr. Gold demanded, letting the door swing back open. Belle shot him a furious glance, leaning against the doorframe as she gingerly picked her foot up from the floor. 

“That hurt!” Belle accused him, rubbing through the suede fabric at her probably rapidly bruising instep. “What kind of person slams the door in someone’s face?”

“I informed you that the store was closed-“

“I need to make a deal,” Belle interrupted, looking up from her scuffed shoe to find him staring down at her. “I’m desperate.”

A sigh followed this proclamation but the door remained open. “You best come in then,” he finally said, turning to head back into the shop. “Lock the door behind you.”

\--

“Out of the question.”

Belle sighed, leaning forward over the table as she snagged another sugar packet. “But if you don’t give us until the fifteenth, we’ll default on our loan.”

“A few extra days of business will not save Game of Thrones from bankruptcy,” Mr. Gold said, ire coloring his tone. “Your father and I have been over this numerous times, Ms. French. If he cannot pay rent on time, I can no longer keep him on as a tenant. Your store is located on prime real estate.”

He took a sip of his tea, eyes staring her down over the rim of his cup as she began to stir the sugar into her drink. “But it’s Valentine’s Day-“

“Again, I fail to see how one holiday-“

“Mr. Gold,” Belle cut him off as she lowered her own cup rather violently back down to the table. “Name your price. You want our house mortgage? Our profit earnings? 50% interest?”

He shook his head at all this, hands rising from the table to stop her tirade. “Ms. French, I do not need any more money-“

“Then, what do you want?” Belle demanded, gesturing around the shop. “Dad’s already sold our cars, resold all our electronics online and cleaned out my college fund-“ A brow rose at this and Belle lifted her own in response. “I want to go to school for library sciences,” she informed him. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 

He didn’t react, simply lifted his cup back to his mouth and drank as they sat in silence. Belle tapped her own teacup, panic gnawing the edges of her mind. If Gold didn’t agree to terms, the bank would take the business from them. Belle wasn’t above getting a job at Granny’s or any other store, but she had her doubts if her father would survive losing her mother’s business. He had barely survived losing her mother. 

“Tell me,” Gold finally said. Belle lifted her eyes back to his, noting the fine lines on his face in the tiffany lamp lit room. “What if I agreed to delay this month’s rent without interest?”

“Then you would be doing us a rather large favor,” Belle said warily. “And I know from your reputation that you do not do ‘favors’.”

He nodded, looking rather smug for a moment before it disappeared. A new look came over his pointed features; a look of… well, Belle would say nervousness in any other man. Clearing his throat, Gold said, “You see…”

As he explained his proposition, Belle found herself coloring rapidly. As he finished laying out the terms and guidelines, he settled back in his chair, spreading his hands out before him and asked, “Well, do we have a deal?”

Belle’s throat was tight, but she found herself nodding numbly. 

Thus, the deal was struck.

\--  
“Yes,” Gold groaned, pressing his hand more firmly to the small of her back. “Like this?“

Belle, red faced and legs quaking beneath her, nodded breathlessly as she pressed herself more firmly against him. “Slow down,” she moaned, swallowing thickly. “Not so fast-Ouch!“

“Damn!”

“It’s okay,” Belle assured him. “Happens all the time.”  
“It’s the waltz,” Gold grumbled at himself. “Not brain surgery.”

Day ten of their little deal found Belle sweating through her t-shirt in the back office of Gold’s Pawnshop. Her dancing partner, although clearly frustrated, looked no worse for wear, every hair in his head perfectly in place and button up shirt barely damp. 

“From the top,” he decided, releasing her to stride over to the record player in the corner. “This time, I’ll try and remember the count.”

Belle shook her head as she collapsed on to the floor. She pulled her feet up under her as she massaged her aching calve muscles. “I need a break,” she insisted. “Five minutes.”

“But-“ Gold started. 

Belle lifted a finger at him, smiling tiredly up at his earnest expression. “Just five minutes?”

“Fine,” he acquiesced, pulling out a chair at the table nearby. “But if I can’t get the spin by Saturday-“

“You know,” Belle laughed, leaning back until she was splayed across the floor. “I don’t even know why you’re nervous about this anyway. You’re doing great.”

He scoffed at that, lifting a water bottle to his mouth. Belle had to look away, the way his throat worked and the noises he made deep in his throat were wholly distracting. “Seriously,” Belle said to the ceiling. “I think you’re ready.”

“Ridiculous,” he muttered. “I barely keep the rhythm.”

Belle shook her head, feeling her hair rustle against the floor as she smiled to herself. “Tell me again why you need to know the Viennese Waltz?”

“Governor’s Ball,” Gold mumbled miserably. “If I have any chance at getting a bidding contract on the forest lands, I need to make a decent impression. The Governor’s wife loves ballroom dancing.”

Belle opened her eyes and peered up at him from the floor. “And you figure, charm the wife and the Governor will be more amicable to beginning business talks with a someone outside of the lumber trade?”

He nodded at her, that self-satisfied smile curling the corners of his lips. Belle found herself smiling back at him, unable to help herself. Robert Gold was grouchy, demanding and a perfectionist. 

And ten days after starting this little deal to save her family business, Belle had a rather large crush on him. 

“Very good,” he told her. Knowing praise was rare from a man like Robert, Belle smiled. She knew her face now had the same look of self-satisfaction. “Now, let’s see about that last dip, I think I’ve got an idea how to match the tempo without sacrificing form-“

\--  
Pushing the back door open, Belle called out,” Robert?”

A muffled reply from the curtained off area alerted her to Robert’s location, “One moment, Belle.”

Nodding, she came in from the frigid winter wind. She unzipped her parka, hanging it neatly on the hooks before unwrapping her scarf from her neck. “What time do you have to leave for Augusta?”

“Drive’s little over an hour, party doesn’t start until eight or so,” came the barely audible response. Belle heard him moving around, and moved closer to the curtained area. 

“So, this is it,” she said brightly as she could muster. The whole walk over here, she had been trying to think of ways to continue this, whatever this was. “Last dance practice.”

“So, it is,” came the reply as the curtain suddenly parted. 

Face to face with Robert Gold in a tailored classic tuxedo, Belle suddenly felt very, very warm. “Wow,” she choked out, looking him up and down in what she hoped was not obvious leering. “You look great.”

“Hate these things,” Robert grumbled as he brushed past her. He had his finger already in the collar and was working at it nervously. “Damn penguin suit.”

“I think you look nice,” Belle said shyly. She felt more than saw Robert turn to her but she quickly moved to the record player. “Wish you had told me it was a dress rehearsal, I would have worn my bridesmaid dress from Mary Margret’s wedding.”

“It’s nothing,” Robert said slowly. “Just thought maybe I should practice in the tux in case it limits any of my… mobility.”

“Yea,” Belle said hurriedly, spinning around as the needle began to track. “Great idea. You ready?”

He stepped towards her and took her hand in his, placing his other hand neatly just under her shoulder blade. As the music began, Belle forgot to pay attention to the steps. 

Instead, she was in the arms of Robert, swaying to the romantic strains of the Blue Danube, as he effortlessly coaxed her around their impromptu dance floor. Gone were the days of stumbling and stepping on each other’s toes, they mirrored each other as if they were each other’s reflections. Robert swayed back on his heel, letting her move towards him as he effortlessly guided her into another rotation. 

His hands were warm, the left clutching her fingers. His thumb absently rubbed her knuckles as he kept his eyes set on hers. When he pulled her down into the dip, Belle went gracefully, her arm going around his neck for balance even as her lips parted invitingly as his neared her own.

Robert barely paused before he picked her up and moved her into another effortless box step. They completed another twirl, Belle moving out and away from him for a moment before mercifully closing the distance until she was back in his arms. 

Now, it was her turn. Belle moved them until they were going to the left. Careful of his leg, she kept her steps small and precise until they were swaying more than stepping. “Robert,” she murmured as she moved them closer to the center. “I have a question.”

“Yes, Belle? He replied and Belle had to remind herself to keep her eyes off his lips. 

“How are you going to make sure they play Blue Danube?”

He smiled at this, that roguish, charming smile that made Belle stumble slightly, his hand tightening on her hand as they came back to the center of the dance floor. “I’ve bribed the band,” he explained to her with a wink. “Come now, do you think I’d leave anything to chance?”

“Course not,” Belle replied. The song swelled to its climax and Belle felt him tighten his arms about her and knew this was the last time she’d be here. With him, in this moment and she vowed to just enjoy it. 

She felt him lower himself, using his good leg to support them, Robert lifted her into his arms. Belle quickly straightened her legs, helping him with a little jump of her own until her skirt swirled around her leggings as she floated above him for a moment.

Just a moment, and then her feet hit the floor, just as the music slowly began to fade away. 

It was over.

“You’re ready,” Belle breathed, still holding tightly to him. “Robert, she’s not going to know what hit her.”

“Of course not,” Robert said but his eyes looked less sure. “Thank you Belle, I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

Nodding, Belle took an abrupt step backwards, hand coming to her hair as it began to fall from its ponytail. “Well, I’ll see you Monday then,” she said through her tight smile. He looked at her blankly and Belle felt her heart shrivel in her chest a bit. “You know, with the rent check.”

“Oh,” was all he said as he turned away.

“Because you today is Valentine’s Day and tomorrow is Sunday so the bank won’t be open-“

“Monday then,” Robert said in clipped tones as he gathered his jacket from beside hers. “And our deal will be complete.”

Less than an hour later as Belle stumbled home, she thought back on the their secret dance lessons and how Robert liked his tea and how she had saved her family business and yet somehow didn’t feel very much like celebrating. She didn’t realize she was crying until she made it home.

\--

The sound of the front door slamming alerted her to her father’s return home. The early dusk of Maine was settling in despite it only being half past three. “Belle!”

Looking up from Harry Potter, Belle called back,” What is it Papa?”

“Come down here!”

Pushing herself off her bed, Belle took a quick glance at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were shiny and glassy from her crying earlier, the blue darker than they usually were. Her lips were swollen from where she had bitten them to keep her sobs back and her cheeks pink from where she had pressed her knuckles to them while reading. 

As Belle made it down the stairs, she found her father smiling proudly at her in the foyer. “Guess what!” He crowed, blue eyes the same colors as her’s shining in unabashed glee. 

Belle couldn’t help but smile back, “We sold out our inventory?” When he smiled back at her even larger, Belle let out a gasp. “We did? We sold out?”

He picked her up in his arms, swinging her around as they laughed. “Some event in Augusta had a florist mishap,” he told her as he finally put her down. “They were calling every florist in a hour’s distance but everyone had sold out of white roses-“

“But we have those!” Belle laughed. “Oh, Papa! That’s wonderful. Do you need help delivering them?”

“Actually,” her father shrugged. “I had plans this evening…”

“Oh,” Belle said and then louder, ”Oh!”

“Just with the Widow Lucas,” he said hurriedly. “And its just dinner but it is Valentine’s Day-“

“I’ll do it,” Belle said firmly. “Give me the address.”

\--

It took less than five seconds after reviewing the purchase order to realize the event in question was in fact the Governor’s Ball. The same one Robert was attending that evening. 

After the hour drive, Belle had been greeted by the event space manager, Gus, who had taken a quick liking to her, pressing her for all the details about her life and her town. Belle had helped his staff set up the flowers, and now lagged behind in the kitchen area as the guests began to arrive. 

“Belle,” the event coordinator and the governor’s right hand woman, Emma Swann, approached her. Emma had arrived earlier to supervise the set up and instead had jumped in with her and Gus in arranging the tables. 

Now, she had changed into a floor length red gown, cut beautifully to show of her shoulders. “Thank you again. When the florist called to cancel, I thought we were dead in the water.”

Strains of music started and Belle looked over her shoulder as the kitchen door swung open to reveal the growing crush of politicians, celebrities and lobbyists. Somewhere Robert was out there. 

“Anyways,” Emma continued with a hint of amusement in her voice. “Gus was just telling me that you know someone here tonight?”

“Oh, yes,” Belle hedged. “Just a fellow Storybrooke citizen.”

“A man?”

Belle looked up to find Emma smiling down at her in a very coy fashion. “How did you-“

“Let’s just say I’m paid to know things,” Emma said cryptically. “Also, to be prepared. Come with me for a minute.”

\--

This wasn’t happening.

Belle heard the opening strains of the Blue Danube as she entered the hall at Emma’s side. The crowed turned as people began to head to the dance floor, the opening strains repeating soothingly as the band allowed the guests time to settle before they began. She turned to Emma, speaking lowly. “This is wonderful but I think I should just go outside for a moment-“

“Belle,” Emma laughed, eyes watching something just over her shoulder. “Will you relax? You look wonderful!”

Belle glanced down at her borrowed gown, rather pleased with it despite her multiple protests. A golden corset in a sweetheart neckline billowed out in cap sleeves of chiffon pink that cuffed at her wrists. The skirt was pale gold in an a-line hem that swirled about her legs when she moved. The finishing touch was rose gold shoes that strapped delicately on her feet. Emma had simply shrugged when questioned why she had Belle’s exact size shoes and a dress that fit her perfectly. Emma stood a solid foot over Belle, her breasts and hips more curved than the diminutive brunette. 

“Emma, I-“

“Excuse me, may I have this dance?”

Robert stood before her, a single red rose pinned to his label as he bowed his head. He offered his hand, the long fingers curling in invitation. Belle felt her entire vocabulary leave her, only sputtering, “Robert-?”

“Thank you, Emma,” Robert said as he lifted his head. He took Belle’s hand, pressing it warmly to his lips as he gazed up at her. 

“And the favor I owed you?”

“Consider it done,” Robert said with a twinkle in his eye. “Now, go enjoy the party.”

As Emma melted away, Belle found herself moving forward to the dance floor with Robert. “I don’t understand-“

“I met with the Governor and Emma this morning,” Robert said with a shrug, taking her hand in his and moving her limp arm to his shoulder. “I’ve been approved to purchase the land and we are in discussion about making it a national parks.”

“But his wife-“

“Is a terrible dancer,” Gold confessed with another rogue smile. 

“But-“

“Belle,” Gold said moving closer to her as the music began in earnest. “I may have been less than honest with you about my goal. You see, I didn’t really need anything from you. I just… well, I rather liked the way you stood up to me and the way you drank your tea, and then of course, your eyes…”

Gone was the prim, precise and pure pleasure of dancing with Robert, now madness took hold of Belle and she leaned in, closer and closer until she could feel his heart beating through his tuxedo. 

“So, I made you a deal,” he whispered to her as he dipped her down. “To spend time with you and I thought perhaps you could clean the shop or work the register but… then I thought of what it might feel like to dance with you…”

“I’m glad,” Belle told him as they began to whirl heedlessly through the traditional and fine crowd, Belle’s golden shimmering dress with the flare skirt spinning like ethereal stars around her. “I’m so glad.”

When the dance ended, Belle dimly realized that the entire crowed had stopped to watch them, now politely clapping as he gazed deep into her eyes, searching for something.

Belle found it easier to lean up and kiss him, feeling the smooth glide of his lips over hers as the music started up again around them. 

After all, this was just the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed darlings. 
> 
> This was inspired by reruns of Friends where Joey helps his landlord learn to waltz to impress a lady. I just tweaked it. 
> 
> Plus, guys, we need more Rumbelle dancing.


End file.
